Month: March 2016

Dawn

Posted on by lothloripen

“Why do people harp on about the beauty of the sunrise? It happens every day with tedious regularity.” – King Louis, The Musketeers.

It is cold.
The rushing air
Pricks the skin
Like droplets of dew
Crystallised.

It is dark.
The world is quiet, the earth’s rotation
Stops.
Fumble for the bedside lamp.
Blinded.

It is quiet.
Even the crickets hold their breath
and every beat of wings
or heart
echoes through the silence.

Bare feet shuffle across freezing floorboards.
Arms shiver and eyelids wage war.
Mouth set in a thin line.
Breakfast is an unassuming affair
Beneath an artificial light.

A glow on the horizon.
The sky is red-rimmed like
Eyes without sleep.
A hint of yellow.
A tantalising taste on vision’s edge.

The world baths in molten gold
The colours once faded
Bask in contentment.
The sky lights up
Without a witness.

Inspired because recently, I have woken up far too early, far too many times.

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7am on the main walkway of uni #beingblinded #unilyf @unsw

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In defence of Rafael Nadal

Posted on by lothloripen

Rafa Nadal

In light of Nadal’s doping allegations, I feel like a post about him is in order. Nadal is my favourite sportsman, my favourite tennis player, my favourite non-actor (and non-British) celebrity.

And he is clean. Of course. Someone of Rafa’s humble demeanour, fiery determination to win and yet unshakable moral compass is utterly trustworthy.

I’m glad he’s going to sue. He should sue the hell out of everyone who is ignorant enough to accuse him.

My love for tennis started back in about 2012, when I was stuck indoors in China for a month in the middle of winter, with no wifi or books (that I could read, anyway). Imagine my delight when the Australian Open was broadcasted – I spend every night watching, and yet for some reason I’d only ever see Djokovic’s matches. Which, naturally, made me like Djokovic. I am rather ashamed to admit that I supported Djokovic in that record-breaking 2012 final. I still like him, but how much greater would that victory be in the hands of Nadal?

Fast forward to Australian Open 2014. I watched Nadal play for the first time ever, and he was mesmerising. People often ask me ‘Why Nadal?’ so this is my reply: because of his passion. Those ferocious forehands and the determination to chase after every ball, as though his spirit were made of fire. His burning resolve to win, the cold murderous rage in his eyes on court and his  adorable smiles of triumph at the end. I would throw everything away to just see him smile.

It pains me to see the struggles that Rafa has been through in 2015, continuing into 2016. Sure, it wasn’t his best year. But nobody is more disappointed than himself, and yet the media and fans of the other “Big 4” players constantly attack him. Sure, he didn’t win any Grand Slams, but he is already the King of Clay and a 14 time Grand Slam champion and has nothing more to prove. The only reason 2015 is perceived as a ‘decline’ is because he had set the standard so high.

In January this year I had the incredible chance to watch Rafa play live at the Fast 4 Tennis exhibition. He played singles against Lleyton Hewitt (and lost) and doubles with Gael Monfils against Hewitt and Nick Kyrgios (and won!). It was amazing to see him live – for the first time I could appreciate the incredible skill and talent that tennis requires.

I was also privileged enough to be one of the first standing against the barrier as Rafa finished his match. Just the previous day I had bought his semi-autobiography (titled Rafa, of course) and I was so incredibly lucky that he adores his fans so much and came for an autograph.

After that, I figured I’d better read it. It’s a semi-autobiography because he wrote half of it, and his biographer John Carlin wrote the other half – the chapters alternate between the two. It starts off describing the ethereal silence of Wimbledon, and through a series of flashbacks depicts his early life and the most significant wins of his career.

And it. Is. Amazing.

Rafa writes with poise and elegance, and with a style that keeps you on the edge of your seat and transports you to the arena. He has some of the most incredibly poetic lines, and also his self-reflections take you to the heart of who he is. The way he describes the shots of any game is almost more intense than watching the game itself – his style is a blend of his blazing energy mixed with the maturity of his humility.

After reading it, I feel like I have gained a deep insight into Rafa, not only as a tennis player, but as a person. The two are inseparable and yet rarely intersect. And anyone who has read it will know why Rafa will never bring in a new coach, why the 2015 decline doesn’t matter, and why he never has and never will dope.

I will cheer him on in every match, now and forever, whether his opponent is ranked in the hundreds or in the top 10. I will celebrate his every victory like it’s my own and feel bitterly disappointed by every loss (especially that first round loss to Verdasco in the Australian Open this year – that hit hard), but in the end I will remember that it’s his life to live and he can do what he wants with it.

Vamos Rafa.

Uni: two weeks in

Posted on by lothloripen

Wow! Has it really been two weeks already? At the same time it feels like I’ve been here for a few thousand years, and then some.

So! The beginning of third year!

From day one I’ve felt like I’m drowning. 80 pages of law a week is not exactly the best start to the semester. Essentially 90% of my time is devoted to this (the other 10% is procrastination). Once, it took me three hours to read and take notes on 10 pages. And then I have to actually understand it and participate in class in order to get marks? Forget it.

Not to mention French has gotten way harder than I remember and je n’ai aucun idée what is going on. I’ve forgotten all my vocab, don’t get me started on grammar, and have absolutely no clue how anyone can understand anything when French people speak at a thousand words a minute. Not exaggerating. (Maybe exaggerating a little…)

When I first started this semester, my attitude was to “wing it”. After all, I’m going to Paris next semester. This is like the calm before the storm, the patient months of waiting before the best time of my life. All I have to do is get through this semester like I’m feeling my way through fog with a sense of complete and utter confusion. (I call this “Gwaining“.)

Instead, I have been diligently staying on top of all my readings, actively participating in class, attending society events and ridiculously early exec meetings, and even started assignments a month before they’re due! (Okay, one assignment. Okay, I haven’t started yet, but I will tomorrow.) This I call “Lanceloting” – tackling a bunch of things and handling the responsibility well.

Of course it’s only two weeks in. Ask me again a month later and I will definitely be Gwaining through uni life, practically half-dead from the assessments bombarded at me left, right and centre.

But that’s fine. Soon I will be in Paris, watching the sunset behind the Eiffel tower, eating macarons at a café in Saint Germain-de-Prés. It’s only a matter of time. But I hope it comes soon.